Revak Dovah Kulaas: Fox's Shadow
by Lokodmaant
Summary: What if the Septim line had continued after Martin had passed? The reason for his leaving Sanguine's teachings to stay with a priestess of Akatosh who converted him. Dragonblood is strong in the Septim line. The fourth era is due a change and who better than the heir of the Septim Dynasty. Dovahkiin. Rated M for blood and gore.
1. In the Dragon's Shadow

**Hi, this story has been plaguing me for a while now and I finally decided to go ahead with it. I have the entire story practically planned out in my head, but I have trouble putting ideas to paper so I ask you be patient with me in terms of updating. Hope you enjoy the story either way.**

**I do not own the Elder Scrolls franchise. That right belongs to Bethesda. Good going guys!**

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Chapter 1 - In the Dragon's Shadow

I had waited for what felt like an age. Maybe it was longer? Maybe not. Either way I grew tired both in body and mind and soon lay down against the smooth stone floor, chilled from the coming of winter, to rest. At first I lay eyes open and alert, but soon felt a haziness grip my very soul and was lost to the conscious world. My body curled against the proud draconic statue, wanting to feel closer to the soul trapped within. It had been a month since the end of the crisis and half a lunar cycle since my guardian had entered the strange gate at Niben Bay. I wanted to wait for him. He promised he would return be it in life or on the verge of death. I trusted him to. I had no other choice.

I was but a child after all. Having turned twelve in the passing Last Seed I was considered old enough to find my own way, but most would argue against it. While glad I was technically too old for an orphanage I couldn't help but feel saddened that I was to carry on my life alone. First mother, then grandfather and uncles, friends and neighbours, a pseudo-family, father and finally a second father of sorts.

My mind drifted deeper into the darkening abyss of sleep and the world around me grew ever fainter. It was odd really. Somehow… it didn't feel like the gentle tidings of sleep where one would awaken soon after. I could feel myself slipping deeper, further, falling. And yet, I couldn't… wouldn't panic. Death didn't even cross my mind as it didn't seem an appropriate explanation. I allowed my very being to fall deeper and just as I felt myself teetering on the edge of pure bliss a gentle warmness blanketed my senses. I was filled with a soft heat that one would use to describe the love for a family member. I recognised the presence, but somehow couldn't bring up a name or a face.

My body was wrapped in something large and warm before it was lifted from the cool stone. Weightlessness washed over me for but a moment when I was gently settled down once more. Walls had formed around me and a heavier darkness of a confined space threatened to press against my senses. The warming presence lingered long enough to give a goodbye before confining me completely in the space. I didn't panic. In fact, I relaxed deeper and finally slipped away into the blissful unconsciousness completely.

Like all moments of rest time moves fast. Passing within the blink of an eye. Consciousness returned in slow dregs. I had been in the darkness so long that when the first beams of sunlight stricken my skin I flinched away. My eyes squeezed tighter against the beams, lighting up my eyelids from the outside giving the darkness a red tone. Sound swam back and assaulted my ears like drums, pounding a headache behind my eyes. The sound of heavy stone shifting across even ground echoed with gasping breaths. My body began to twitch impatiently, wishing to move and stretch. I locked my muscles on instinct as the heavy breathing grew closer and the beams of light brighter. And like that the darkness fell away and sound boomed back. My own gasps of shock and pain giving way to whimpers.

"By the Gods!" Warm hands wrapped around my shaking form and I was lifted from the hole. I thrashed weakly against my capturer. Or was it saviour? The heavy cloth that had been wrapped around me was pulled tighter to conserve the warmth. Despite the cool warmth to the air I still shivered. The arms holding me brought me closer to a solid chest and held me there.

Opening my eyes probably wasn't the best idea. Not only did the sun strike a chord with that pounding headache, but everything was bleary; as if I was underwater. I blinked many a time and yet nothing came into focus. The fear of going blinded panicked me and I struggled.

"Shh," the voice of the one who held me sounded from above. It was a man no doubt. "You have been underground for a long time. Your senses will return in due course, Heiress."

Heiress? My brain processed the word sluggishly and memories began to weave together to create a bigger picture. Heiress meant entitled to something important. The face of my father flashed in my mind followed by my grandfather. I felt my heart sink as I remembered.

Voices interrupted my thoughts and the man held me closer. It was almost as if he was afraid. He quickly broke out into a brisk walk carrying me bridle style. Scared and still confused I shifted restlessly and his hold tightened. It wasn't meant to restrict, it felt… warm somehow. As if he was giving me a hug; one shared between friends.

"Just bear with me a little longer Heiress," his voice was barely above a whisper and I strained to hear it. "I'm taking you to my home just outside the city. It's a small cottage hidden in the surrounding woods. It's not safe for you here."

Safe? I was never safe really. Not since grandfather died four years ago. I was hunted. Sorted for. Even after father had passed there was still a danger. It was never explained to me what that danger was. Maybe it was why I ended up in that hole? I felt the man restlessly shift as he walked, light never shining on us for but a moment. He stuck to the shadows; dark corners and alleys. I must have fell asleep again. Funny how despite sleeping one could still wake up as tired as before.

The damp strokes of a wet cloth ran over my forehead. I felt feverish and ill, but my mind was a lot clearer than before. I groaned, wincing as my throat protested the action due to the dry scratchy feel within. A callous hand moved under my head and gently lifted it up. Glass pressed against my lips and I greedily drank the water within until I almost choked.

"Easy," the man from before chided, "I won't have you drowning yourself." The glass was pulled away and my head set down again. Wearily I opened my eyes; still bleary, but I could make out the faded candlelight on a wooden nightstand. My eyes moved to focus on the silhouette hovering over me worryingly. Lightly tanned skin covered in a plain brown tunic, light brown hair cropped just above the ears which were pointed upwards. Mud brown eyes stared back at me, the irises almost taking up the entire eye. A Bosmer or Wood Elf if you couldn't be bothered with the proper name. He looked to be in the prime of his life which meant he was between the ages of thirty to well over three hundred years. Like most Bosmer his face had an elfish point to it; high cheekbones, fragile bone structure and wiry muscles. His bare arms were toned with light muscle indicating lighter weapons like daggers or bows. With my vision clearing further I looked at his open hands and saw the tell-tale marks of a competent bowman. Traditional Bosmer.

The Bosmer saw my analysing gaze and responded with an exasperated sigh. His fingers ran up to stroke through his hair in a tired motion. "Seems time hasn't let you forget Aloynd's teachings."

The name hit me hard and I sat up abruptly scaring the Bosmer back a little. The move probably wasn't wise as my head reared in pain nearly forcing me off the bed I lay in due to the imbalance. The Bosmer shot forward and grabbed me before that could happen.

"Nine help me. I told you to take it easy!" I was gently laid back onto the bed. "I haven't spent the last three days nursing you back to health just so you could fall over and break your neck!"

I had been asleep for three days? Didn't really surprise me. It explained why I felt so sluggish and light headed. Still I needed answers and this Bosmer was my only option. "W-Where am I?" Simple enough question to start off with. My throat was still dry and sore despite my refreshing drink from before.

The Bosmer, who was still going off on a little tirade, paused to look at me carefully. Assessing my reaction and expressions. He sat down on the chair pulled up beside my bed and sighed. "My home. A small cottage just south of the Imperial City. I brought you here three days ago. After I found you and smuggled you out of the city's walls you fell into unconscious and caught a high fever. I've been tending you since."

"Thank you." I meant it. Fevers could turn deadly, fast. If I was still holed away in that dark place I had awoken to I probably wouldn't have lived much longer. I swallowed hard to ready my throat. "You said you found me. Where?"

The Bosmer looked at me sharply. "What is the last thing you remember?"

I thought back into the hazy memories surrounding my odd sleep. "I was waiting for someone at the Temple of the One." Even if he had saved me I didn't trust him. The answer I gave was vague enough to not reveal too much.

The Bosmer nodded. "That is where I found you. A small space lay beneath the dragon statue of Emperor Martin Septim. You were holed away inside wrapped in a thick, blood red cloak." He moved his hand under the bed and pulled out a familiar cloak of sanguine. I reached for it instantly and he handed it over with no reluctance. It was exactly as I remembered it; soft against the skin and thick enough for Cyrodil winters even in the northern city of Bruma. Yet, it was also different; worn with age to which it wasn't the last time I had seen it. The colour had dulled and the material slightly more coarse.

The Bosmer watched my searching hands before saying in a quiet voice. "The person you were waiting for…"

I stiffened. "What about him? He's an old friend of the family."

The Bosmer smirked, as if he knew a secret. "Friend of the family? I guess that's one way to describe him." The smirk grew cocky. "Then again I thought Aloynd meant more to you than that, Aiaenia."

I must have paled rapidly. Yes, he had already mentioned that he knew my guardian and mentor by name, but he also knew mine. My breathing grew panicked and suddenly he was right in front of me. I opened my mouth to scream, but his hand firmly clasped over it. I would have kicked him, but the worry in his eyes made me pause.

"Damn Aiaenia. If I knew you were going to react like that I wouldn't have said anything." He removed his hand and I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding. He moved back into his chair, slumped really, and held his head in his right hand wearily. He looked at me from under his hand and gave a tired smile. "I know I've grown, but I would have thought you wouldn't forget an old friend."

Old friend? I looked at him, harder now. He did give off a familiar air that I naturally relaxed around and he did seem to know quite a bit about me. I thought back to all the Bosmers I knew, but none matched the description of this typical featured elf. There was one but…

It must have shown on my face because he smiled knowingly and gave a little bow of the head. "Good to see you again Aiaenia."

"Al-Alvethaur!" I gasped. I couldn't believe it. The image of a scrawny sixteen year old Bosmer was all I could conjure up in my memory. Not this well-toned archer in his middle ages.

He nodded his head and smirked again. "Got it in the one. I'm hurt you didn't recognise me to be honest. Though, I guess I have grown a little."

"A little?" I quipped in surprise. "You're a different person! What happened to the scrawny, clumsy Blade recruit that used to scream at the sight of blood?"

He smiled a little at my summary. "I'm hurt Aiaenia. I thought you looked up you looked up to me? Like a brother?"

I snorted. "The big brother I had to look after. I don't know how you managed to convince Baurus to let you into the Blades."

"He had I had a good arm and was a quick study." He defended before growing serious. "To answer your previous question, Aiaenia, I grew up. Surely you can see that."

"It's hard to determine age with elves. And surely it hasn't been that long since I fell asleep?" When he didn't answer I grew worried. "Alvethaur?"

"You have no idea how long it's been since I last saw you Aiaenia." His tone worried me greatly. "Nor have you seen what has happened since you and Aloynd disappeared completely. The Empire was in turmoil and High Chancellor Ocato struggled to hold the Elder Council together. It was a mess and the Blades could do nothing but hopelessly search for you two."

"Alvethaur, how long has it been?"

"It's a new era, Aiaenia. The Septim Empire died with Emperor Martin and so a new era was ushered in. It's the Fourth Era. The twenty-first of Rain's Hand in the two-hundredth and first year. I am now two-hundred and seventeen years old."

I blinked in shock. What else could I have done? "Two hundred…? T-That's absurd Alvethaur! If that much time had truly passed then I would be nothing more than a pile of dust by now. I know Imperials are the longest living humans out there, but we never exceed two centuries! I was already twelve when the crisis happened. I'd well over two-hundred by now."

Alvethaur had the gall to give a gentle smile. "Two hundred and thirteen as of Last Seed. The longest living Imperial to ever grace Nirn without being one of the undead."

"This isn't a joke Alvethaur." I scolded harshly. He frowned and sat back in his chair.

"I'm not joking. You are now two-hundred and twelve years of age and still look the same as you did last era."

I was about to argue back when his words registered in my head. "What?"

He sighed and pulled a mirror from the drawer of the nightstand. "See for yourself." He handed me the mirror and sat back again, observing my reactions.

Confused I looked into the mirror and nearly dropped it in shock. Staring back was a sickly looking twelve year old girl with waist length brown hair waving down by her pale skin. Like all Imperials she was built leaner unlike the stocky Nords or the broad Redguards. Bright blue eyes the colour of a clear sky stared back at her widely, her young face lined with smooth unblemished skin.

Alvethaur gently took the mirror was my frozen grasp and set it down gently. He grasped my shaking hand and held tightly. "I'd guess you went into some sort of magical coma when you were waiting for Aloynd. The Temple of the One read high on magicka following the weeks of your disappearance. It's the only way to explain your condition."

I felt tears fill my eyes. "Everyone I knew."

Alvethaur nodded sadly. "Gone. I'm lucky to be here to be honest. Some much went wrong after you disappeared. High Chancellor couldn't crown you as heir to the Septim Empire less the wrong people went to look for you. The Blades spent countless decades searching for you, but by then it was too late for the Third Era. Then a group of Altmer from Summerset Isles rose to power and began a study conquer of Tamriel starting with my ancestral home, Valenwood. They called themselves the Third Aldmeri Dominion. They eventually called for war and the Empire was forced to fight. They lay siege to the Imperial City and we lost." He clenched his hands in anger. "As we only serve the Dragonborn lineage we abandoned the Empire when the new Era was rushed in."

I couldn't really be surprised at that. The Blades swore their lives to the Dragonborn which all Septim's were descended from apparently. "Where did you go?"

Alvethaur shrugged. "Grandmaster Jauffre called us back to Cloud Ruler Temple and called for every Blade across the provinces to begin the search for either you or a new Dragonborn. When the Aldmeri Dominion stormed Cyrodiil one of their demands was the disbandment of the Blades. When Emperor Tidus Mede II refused they knocked over a cart bearing the heads of every Blades' agent in Valenwood and Summerset Isles." I made a noise of horror, but he wasn't finished. "That's when the Great War – as it's referred to – began. When Tidus Mede II surrendered and the White Gold Concordat formed the Blades were dissolved and the rest of us hunted down. Cloud Ruler Temple was laid siege to for several months before it fell."

I gasped in horror. The faces of each Blade I had ever met flashed through my mind including the younger recruits. "You escaped?"

"Barely," he growled. "As far as the Thalmor are concerned I am dead."

"Thalmor?" I asked at the unfamiliar name.

Alvethaur's scowled. "The name of the group that makes up the Aldmeri Dominion. Appeared in the Summerset Isles a couple of decades after you disappeared. Took Valenwood not seven years later."

I arched my eyebrows incredulously. "You were at war for over a century?"

He shook his head, scowl deepening. "Took them another century and a half to build up the courage and resources to take Cyrodiil. I had rose up the ranks of the Blades by that point. When the war started I was just named Grandmaster of the Blades."

"_To be Grandmaster Blade… it would be my greatest dream._" I remembered the words a thirteen year old Alvethaur whispered to me in the dead of night. "Congratulations."

Alvethaur gave a small smile before sighing. "It was short lived. The war lasted for four years and the Blades fell the year after. I fear I'm all that's left of the order. It's been thirty years since then. I live in fear of being recognise and killed. Deciding to remain close to the Imperial City was a very risky move on my part, but the Thalmor are less likely to find me."

I nodded. "Jauffre's tactic?"

Alvethaur let out a weak laugh. "Seems that old Breton knew what he was doing." He paused before adding. "He died not long after he ordered the Blades to withdraw from the Empire. Baurus took the title of Grandmaster after that and so on so forth. I acted as a spy for many decades within Cyrodiil, masquerading as a talented hunter."

I picked up his hands and squeezed them. "Finally learnt how to hold a bow properly?"

"Oh ha, ha," he mocked sarcastically. "I became a master archer if you must know."

"Hmm?" I narrowed my eyes. "How long did that take you?"

Alvethaur paused before grinning sheepishly. "A century, but who's counting?" I giggled breathlessly before a yawn took a hold. Alvethaur smiled knowingly and squeezed my hand back comfortingly. "Get some rest. We'll talk more in the morning." With that and one last squeeze he released my hand and stood up. Crossing the small bedroom in which I resided he quietly opened the door and slipped through it.

"Alvethaur?" He paused in the doorway. "Thank you."

In the dim candlelight I saw a fond smile pull at his worn features. "What are friends for Aiaenia? You… you have no idea how glad I am to see you alive. Goodnight."

"Divines bless you." I whispered as he finally closed the door. I stared up at the wooden ceiling of the bedroom, sorting through the information Alvethaur had divulged and what else was left to be told. I felt wetness flow down my cheeks as I mourned the loss of the Blade members I had known. Baurus and Jauffre being the hardest. I was grateful that Alvethaur had lived long enough to see me return from whatever happened to me. I lifted my hand up into the air and clenched it a few times. The limb trembled with weakness, but held firm.

I sighed and allowed it to fall back to my side. Whatever came next I knew I needed to grow strong and fast. If the Thalmor were as bad as Alvethaur said then who knew what they would do if an heir to the Septim Dynasty returned. By rights of birth the Ruby Throne was mine to claim when I came of age. What would the current Empire think? Either way, the world I knew was gone.

"Last time I sleep by your statue father," I joked. Rolling over I blew out the candle submerging the room in complete darkness for even Masser and Secunda were absent from the night sky. My hand moved towards the red cloak and pulled it closer, hugging it tightly. I had no idea how Aloynd's cloak had gotten into my possession as the last I saw of it the man himself was wearing it as he left for Niben Bay. Either way Aloynd would have long passed from Nirn leaving me alone for real.

"_I promise to come back, Aiaenia. It's just another Oblivion Gate."_

"Stupid," I choked on a sob. "You never returned did you?" The darkness didn't answer and I buried myself into the cloak. "You promised."

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_Next on Revak Dovah Kulaas..._

_So much has changed since I was last awake. Aloynd is gone, through an Oblivion Gate opened after the Crisis. Practically everyone I know is dead. My childhood friend Alvethaur is a one of the remaining, one of the last Blades left in Tamriel with the Thalmor hunting him at every turn. Cyrodiil isn't safe for us anymore. The Empire is corrupt with the Thalmor pulling the strings. Where could we go? All the provinces have fallen. Hammefell? They had driven out the Thalmor alongside the Empire. The Elven provinces were out as well as those of the Khajit and Argonians. Orsimer was too far. That left..._

_Guess we're going to Skyrim. The origin of the Septim Line. Talos guide me._

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**Hope you liked it. This is my first attempt at first person as I prefer to write as a narrator. Please review and be sure to ask me any questions regarding the story you may have. I'll try to answer them without giving away too much. **

**I should point out now the title 'Revak Dovah Kulaas' is Dovahzuul (Dragon Language) for 'Sacred Dragon Princess' translated by thuum . org . I will be using this website as well as TES Wiki pages for research into the lore behind Tamriel. I will tweak the history to fit my story, but either way I hope you enjoy.**


	2. A Wagon, An Axe and the Start of the End

**Hey guys. I'm back a lot quicker than I thought. The story is flowing rather smoothly so I'm writing as the story solidifies in my head.**

**I do not own Elder Scrolls. **

Chapter 2 - A Wagon, An Axe and the Start of the End

Turns out sleeping for two centuries takes a lot out of you. I mean seriously. I had awoken the next day with my fever still running and my body as sluggish and uncooperative as before. Alvethaur had confined me to bed rest barely allowing me to get up to use the chamber pot. He refused to call a Healer from any of the temples lest he be recognised. Despite the Blades breaking ties with the Empire they still fought against the Aldmeri Dominion in the Great War. Angered by the brutal murder of hundreds of their members. He had fought on many battlefields and could be recognised if one of high enough social standing saw him. As such he tended to me himself, passing the time by sharing stories of the years following my disappearance as well as recalling old memories back. Most being before Kvatch fell to the Oblivion Gate.

That was four months ago.

I had convinced Alvethaur that if he wanted to remain undiscovered, but work behind the scenes he needed to relocate from the little cottage outside the Imperial City. His spies posted throughout all the holds – most being paid beggars and thieves – needed to be able to access him and it was hard from the centre of Tamriel. By the time I had him convince I had recovered from my fever and with constant exercise had regained strength in my twelve year old body. The clothes I had been found in were not saved from time and had grown worn with age. Luckily my necklace still hung from my neck, the blood red gem hidden beneath my shirts. To lose it would be very bad. Disastrous even. Regarding my attire, I had snuck out of the cottage in the early hours and ventured to the city just in time for the merchants to begin their sales for the day. With gold found in my little pouch I had acquired several outfits of clothing – both summer and winter as well as healing potions and books on recent history. No one had paid me a second glance after donning one of my newer dresses and I was able to observe the city like a shadow.

Not much had changed in regards to the outlay of the city. A few new buildings dotted here or there, but it was essentially the same. The people however. That was a different story. The air itself was strained by nervous fear from the adults of the city. A few went about their day happily enough, but the more mature generations had a morbid glean in their eyes. Eyes that had seen the horrors of war, this one made by mortals.

I had left the city quickly after that and arrived just in time to see Alvethaur having a full out panic attack.

He tried to ground me to the cottage. The nerve!

I argued that there was barely anyone alive in the entirety of Tamriel that had known me personally, less as to my true birth right. To the people who saw me today I was a simple Imperial girl buying the latest fashion and books from the merchants. I had even caught sight of a few of these Thalmor agents and they hadn't so much as glanced at me. Alvethaur wasn't happy and had said so. I had to remind him I spent four years of my life running from daedra with Aloynd after I had grown restless with the Blades' Headquarters. I knew how to hold myself in a skirmish long enough to get away safely. I wasn't helpless in any sense of the word.

After that I was allowed free roam of the Imperial City and the neighbouring forests so long as I had returned by nightfall. Alvethaur had dove into old Blade tomes searching for a safe place to hold up after we had left the cottage. This brought up the next question; where would we go?

The elven provinces were out; Summerset and Valenwood for obvious reasons regarding the Thalmor and Morrowind due to the almost inhabitable atmosphere after Red Mountain had erupted five years after I had disappeared. Alvethaur said it was because of a meteor striking Vvardenfell and I couldn't help but feel for the locals. Elsweyr was also under heavy Thalmor influences as was Black Marsh. Hammerfell had driven out the influence and cut ties with the Empire completely, but had blocked its borders from most travellers and Orsimer was too far out to be an efficient hideout. Which left…

"Welcome to Skyrim; home of the harsher winters and the harshest humans." Alvethaur joked coldly, shivering against the bitter wind despite being wrapped up in thick furs.

"And birth place of the Empire I hail from thank you very much," I taunted back dryly. "And aren't you supposed to be a Blade? You're shivering more than I am?" No denying it was cold, but it wasn't that much different from Bruma on the other side of the pass.

"The Great War was never fought in Skyrim," Alvethaur defended himself which was ruined by another shiver. "And you're Nordic descent while I hail from the hot woods down south. Of course I'm freezing!"

I snorted and pulled at the reins of my horse who nickered impatiently. "You're also a hardened veteran and I a little girl." My horse snorted again and I ran my fingers through the white mane. "Easy Snow-Gale, we'll move in a bit."

I could see Alvethaur glare at my horse out of the corner of my eye. "While you have the excuse of a magical coma what does that beast of an equine have? I told you it was Daedric descent."

I rolled my eyes and looked over my shoulders at him. "He's the finest bred Imperial horse born from a long line of royal equines. He was also my seventh birthday present from my grandfather if you must know. They only answer to the Septim line." The white stallion neighed as if in agreement and hoofed the ground.

Alvethaur scoffed and kicked his own chestnut mount into a light trot to which Snow-Gale matched without any prompting from me. "They still don't live two centuries."

"Not everything is between Nirn and Oblivion you know?" Tired of the argument I decided to observe the snowy mountain scenery that surrounded us. Bruma, while it snowed a far bit from late autumn to spring couldn't hold a candle to the frost bitten tundra of the Jerall Mountains. Vegetation was far and few between and predators such as bears and wolves in abundance. While I was Nordic descent my body was still more Imperial and as such felt the cold just as well. I had wrapped myself up in fur-lined clothing with Aloynd's cloak wrapped around me tightly, contrasting against Snow-Gale's snowy back. We continued our journey down the steep path and finally came to a crossroad paved in cobblestone with a worn signpost pointing north and the other west.

Alvethaur pulled out a small map of Skyrim's roads before marking down our position. "We're now in Falkreath Hold which I guess you can compare to our counties back in Cyrodiil. The north path heads up to Whiterun Hold which is the centre of Skyrim. The west path heads across the southern border up to the Hold's capital and then branches off into the west side of Whiterun or the eastern edges of the Reach."

I nodded. "You think Sky Haven Temple is somewhere in the Reach?"

Alvethaur nodded. "Just as the war began I corresponded with all the Blades across Tamriel, warning them of what had happened in the Imperial City. It's customary for the Blades to have drop off points for our couriers. It's never too far from the actual temple."

I looked at the map and nodded. "You'd better hope it is 'cause the Reach is quite big."

Alvethaur chuckled without humour. "And it's all mountains," he paused before sighing. "Are you sure this is the best idea?"

I hummed thoughtfully. "What? Coming to Skyrim or splitting up?"

"Both," he scratched the back of his head warily. "I know Whiterun Hold is the safest place for you but-"

I cut him off. "You said the Reach is having too many problems with the natives. While I can hold myself against bandits I doubt I would come out of an organised attack on that scale unscathed."

"I know, I know." He waved me off. "But you're still just a kid."

I huffed. "I'm four years younger than you!"

He cracked a smile. "In spirit maybe, but as far as mind and body go you're a child." He let the smile slip and sighed. "I want you to send a letter every week to the drop off point. If you miss one week I'm coming back to get you."

"Yes father." I snipped before smiling and reaching over to pull him into a hug. "I'll be fine Alvethaur. I'm more concerned about you so make sure _you _don't forget to send a message. I'll ask the courier to pick up any letters you leave at the drop off and bring them back. I'll know if you miss one."

He laughed with more feeling and pulled me tighter into the hug, almost pulling me off Snow-Gale. I mumbled a light protest but accepted the affection, even as he ruffled my braided locks. Pulling away he handed me a copy of the map and snapped the reins on his mount.

"Stay safe!" He called out as he took off down the west road towards Falkreath. I waved my hand in the air in farewell.

"Gods guide you," I sighed and gently tapped Snow-Gale's side. With a light nicker he trotted off at a steady pace up the North road. The sun was just peaking over the Jerall Mountains signalling mid-morning in the surprisingly clear sky. There had been a light mist of fog earlier up, but had quickly dissipated after leaving Pale pass. Either way the air was just as frigid despite the usually warm month of Last Seed. I couldn't help but rub my hands together to conserve the warmth. I hoped Whiterun wasn't as bad.

We didn't travel far when the sound of hooves knocking against the hard earth echoed through the dense trees of the forest. Snow-Gale snorted at the noise and I could feel him tensing underneath the fur-rimmed saddle. I gently pulled him to a full halt and listened carefully, right hand moving to the steel dagger attached to my left hip. The sound grew and soon I could hear angered shouts echoing behind the pounding hooves. Snow-Gale shook his head violently and lifted his forelegs slightly in an agitated motion.

I nearly slipped from the saddle at the unexpected lift. "Woah! Easy boy." I knotted my fingers through his wild mane and held it tightly, my other hand still resting on my dagger.

"HALT!" The sudden shout came from my left and I looked up just in time to see a horse come flying from between the trees. Either the rider didn't see us or didn't care, either way the panicked horse jumped from the small ledge that bordered the road right and right over Snow-Gale's back. The height to which the equine had jumped wasn't enough to clear Snow-Gale or myself and so I felt my body erupt in pain as the massive creature smacked right into me. Beyond the pain I heard Snow-Gale's outraged screeches as he was knocked flat on his side by the other horse. I hit the ground and thanked the Gods when neither horse landed on top of me. My head cracked against the floor and my vision blacked for an instant. Sound was in abundance where my sight lacked. More hooves sounded against the harsh floor followed by angered voices. Snow-Gale was still whinnying in what seemed to be protest and the other horse sounded in pain. Poor thing probably broke a leg in the fall.

I could feel myself drifting away into unconsciousness and panicked. There was little doubts I had a concussion from my soft head meeting hard cobble and falling asleep was the last thing I wanted to do. The voices were close now and I could hear the sounds of a light struggle.

"No, no, no! I'm not a rebel!" A scared voice cried out. "I was just passing by! I have nothing to do with them." Sounded like an arrest which meant the idiot who ran me over was running from guards of some kind.

"General Tullius! What do we do with him?" The criminal's protests died off and the voices of the guards could be heard.

"Throw him in with the rest of them. The Legion can't afford to set free a spy." Legion? As in the Imperial Legion? My brain processed this information sluggishly and I let out a groan. Of all the people who could have ran into me.

"Why are there two horses?" I heard one soldier ask before he yelled out in pain. "Vile beast!" I inwardly sighed; trust Snow-Gale to bite a soldier of the Legion. I heard the clambering off hooves pass me and a heavy breath on my neck. Forcing my body to move despite the blindness I latched onto Snow-Gale's reins as he tried to pull me up. A sword cut through the air and I felt the reins snap under the blade forcing me to the ground. Knowing he was outnumbered and carrying important documents Snow-Gale cut his losses and galloped off.

"Stop it!" A soldier cried out, but after hearing several arrows pierce the air and hit nothing but dirt or bark I knew Snow-Gale had escaped.

Letting out an audible groan of pain I slumped back onto the hard floor and let darkness take over in a blissful sleep.

* * *

I was alive. If the pain in the back of my head was proof enough that is. My back also ached from where I had collided with the floor, but after flexing my muscles I felt nothing had torn or broken. My body had been propped in an upright position on a wooden seat, my head lolling on some sort of fabric as I had been dead to the world. I let my eyelids flutter and felt the familiar stabs of light piercing my retinas. The world swam into focus and I let out a relieved sigh that I hadn't actually gone blind from the fall.

"You're awake?" An accented voice called out to me and I lifted my head from its resting perch to see a young blond Nord in a leather cuirass watching me curiously. I could do little more than blink at him as he sighed in relief and smiled. "When they brought you here I was sure you were dead."

I looked around me and was surprised to see that I was sitting in a horse-drawn wagon. The forest of Falkreath Hold surrounded us as well as dozens of finely dressed soldiers that I recognised as Legionnaires. The sun hadn't moved far in the sky meaning I hadn't been out for too long. I looked back at the Nord and was shocked to see his hands were tied together.

The Nord saw my gaze and smiled humourlessly before gesturing to myself. "I'm surprised they put an innocent child on a prisoner's cart." I looked around me to see we also shared the cart with a two other Nords; one more weedy looking with slick brown hair wearing rags and the other an older man in fine clothed furs both bound and the latter gagged with a filthy cloth.

"Where…?" I lifted my hand to my head to try and sooth the headache there. The Nord looked at me sympathetically.

"We had stopped suddenly when a horse leapt out in front of our carriage nearly causing the entire thing to overturn." He scowled as he glared at the brown-haired Nord next to him. "Half the guards ran after the horse and when they came back they had this horse-thief in binds and you over their shoulder. Something about finding you injured on the road?"

I felt the bump on the back of my head and let out a little whimper of pain. "Some idiot ran his horse into mine and threw us all to the ground."

The blond Nord blinked with wide eyes before turning them to glare at the suddenly cowering brunette. "You nearly killed an innocent child?" I blinked in shock when it hit me that the brown haired Nord was the one who ran me over. "Over what? A stupid horse you stole?"

The Nord's eyes went wild with fear as he yelled back. "What would you have me do? They chased after me! Of course I ran. It's not my fault the stupid girl got in the way. If it wasn't for you Stormcloaks I'd would be halfway to Hammerfell by now."

"Shut up back there!" The carriage driver snapped impatiently from the front, not bothering to turn around.

The blond Nord snorted in derision and looked back at me with softer eyes. "What's your name kid?"

It took me a while to answer as my brain refused to work faster. "Huh? Oh… I'm Aiaenia."

The Nord nodded. "An Imperial? Either way, my name is Ralof. Where are your parents?"

I let out a light sigh. Though it had been over two hundred years since my father had died it felt like a little more than several months for me which was technically true. "D-Dead."

Ralof bowed his head. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"What's wrong with him?" The horse-thief and my would-be-murderer spoke up suddenly, staring rudely at the older blond Nord beside me. Not able to speak due to the gag the man glared back in indignation. It suddenly clicked in my mind that I had been sleeping on this man's shoulder.

"Watch your tongue!" Ralof snapped impatiently. "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!"

I thought Torygg was the High King of Skyrim? That was what Alvethaur had told me anyway. The young man had been young and inexperienced as well as loyal to the Empire but he was a fair enough ruler. Like the rest of the Empire he just had a few problems with the Thalmor.

The horse-thief's eyes went wide. "The Jarl of Windhelm? But… you're the leader of the rebellion. If they're captured you…" he whimpered pathetically, "then where are they taking us?"

Ralof looked away. "I don't know… but, Sovngarde awaits." I felt my heart twinge in sympathy as I was aware that Sovngarde was the Nordic heavens. Being descended from Dragonborns if I led a warrior's life I too would be granted access to Shor's Halls like any true Nord.

"That's Helgen," Ralof spoke suddenly looking into the distance. I too turned my head towards the front of the carriage and saw a small town appearing at the base of the mountain, nestled tightly and fortified by walls. The party approached the town and I couldn't help but gulp at what was to come.

"Shor, Akatosh, Mara, Dibella. Divines, please help me!" I ignored the whimpering thief and turned to Ralof whose face had taken a dark shadow. Unsure of what to do I place my right hand on his bound ones and held it tightly. He looked up in surprise before a sad smile took his face.

"You remind me of my nephew, Frodnar. He's a little younger than you but a spirited lad." He sighed and rested his head back. "Hmm, I wonder how he's doing. He'll be turning ten soon." He looked at me and asked. "If I may... how old are you?"

"Twelve," plus two centuries, but no one needed to know that.

Ralof chuckled. "Not quite a child but neither an adult. To travel on your own if mighty brave of you."

I let out a small laugh. "Yes, my… brother wasn't too thrilled with my decision but he had important business elsewhere."

"Fair enough, not that it's my business anyway."

I let a small silence settle before finally asking. "Why are you prisoners? What did you do wrong?" I had nothing against thieves or assassins personally so it wasn't like I was going to judge him on it.

Ralof looked at me before saying. "You're new to Skyrim aren't you?"

I blinked, wondering why he was asking. "I'm from Cyrodiil so yes I'm am new to Skyrim."

Ralof sighed. "You picked a bad time to come to our homeland."

I tilted my head to the side. "Why?"

"General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting." Headsman?! I looked at Ralof in horror and saw a resigned look on his face. I turned to the wagon in front of us – also carrying soldiers dressed similarly to Ralof – and that they too looked stoic. The thief began to panic more and was starting to shift restlessly.

"Good," a grey-haired Imperial dressed in the golden armour of a high ranking officer called out from the front of the procession. "Let's get this over with." He had his horse pull away from the party to meet with an Altmer on a horse with familiarly dressed soldiers standing at attention beside her. Thalmor.

"Look," Ralof spat in disgust. "General Tullius the military governor." A very high ranked officer. "And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves, I bet they had something to do with this."

If the Thalmor were involved then something was seriously wrong in Skyrim and it had escaped Alvethaur's notice as he nurtured me back to help. What on Nirn could happen in four months that the Thalmor would be meeting with a General of the Imperial Legion?

We were paraded through the town of Helgen shamelessly. The townsfolk abandoned their daily duties to come to their porches to watch them with a mixture of expressions. Worry, relief, joy and sadness. Eventually we came to a stop in the town's square with a headsman's block waiting in the centre.

"Why are we stopping?" The thief was still panicking, eyes shifting non-stop. He looked on the verge of a total breakdown.

Ralof let his shoulders slump in defeat. "What'd you think? End of the line." The thief's eyes went wide with horror as the situation finally caught up with him.

"Get those prisoners out of the carts!" An Imperial woman called out harshly, dressed in a more decorated outfit.

At a loss to what to do I looked around nervously. I wasn't tied up so I couldn't be a prisoner unless they didn't deem me enough of a threat and incapable of escaping. My steel dagger was no longer on my person so I was defenceless in that sense. Ralof saw me shifting and stood up from his seat.

"Stay close. I don't think the Empire is cowardly enough to execute a child even if they were one of ours." I nodded and stood up with him as we were filed out of the cart one by one. Once off the cart Ralof guided me over to the gagged Nord he had called Ulfric and hid me behind him. Obviously he wasn't so confident in the Empire's morals regarding children. I looked up at him and he smiled grimly before turning his attention back to the Legionnaires. They had lined up in front of them with one holding a list at the ready.

"Empire loves their damned lists," I giggled at Ralof's snarky remark and could feel Ulfric's amusement at the statement as well as his body held repressed chuckles.

"When I call out your name," a Nord soldier with light brown hair called out, holding the list, "step forward and proceed to the block."

The group from the other wagon had joined us so that made about half a dozen prisoners plus myself and the horse thief who was now whimpering like a kicked dog. One by one their names were called out and they marched proudly to their awaiting deaths. True Nords indeed.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm." I felt Ulfric move back slightly forcing me to shadow his footsteps. When he finally moved towards the block Ralof was standing protectively in front of me.

"It has been an honour, Jarl Ulfric." He bowed his head at the passing man who nodded back respectively.

"Ralof of Riverwood," the soldier looked discomforted by the name, but didn't allow his voice to waver in the call.

"Damn," Ralof muttered under his breath, no doubt wary to leave me on my own. While I appreciated the concern I wasn't that helpless.

"Go, Sovngarde awaits." The saying seemed appropriate and sure enough Ralof relaxed and moved forward. The soldier reading the list looked at me in surprise before quickly carrying on with the reading.

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

The thief broke. "NO! I'm not a rebel. You can't do this!" With that he broke into a desperate run towards the exit. "You're not going to kill me!"

"Halt!" The Captain called before ordering. "Archers!"

Now I had seen death plenty of times before, be they bandits or people. I've seen clean, gruesome, natural and crude. But unless you're emotionally stunted you never really get used to seeing someone die. Sure you could hide your feelings but they would always gnaw away at your insides like skeevers.

The arrows, and there was plenty of them, plundered into Lokir's unprotected back before he could even turn the corner. He didn't even have enough time to scream as his body plummeted to the earth in midstride. Out of respect I refused to allow my gaze to be averted. He chose his course and faced the consequences despite the action itself being cowardly.

"Anyone else feel like running?" The Captain shouted out at the remaining prisoners who stared back silently. The Captain looked a little disappointed by the lack of reaction, but gestured for the solider to carry on.

The soldier looked confused as I was the only one left waiting.

The Captain grew impatient when he didn't continue. "Problem soldier?"

The Nord blinked and gestured to me. "It's a child Captain."

The Captain's expression grew irritated. "And?! Send her to the block and be done with it." I gaped at the outburst. It was official, I hated this woman. The soldier spluttered and there was an outbreak of harsh whispers coming from fellow Legionnaires, prisoners and observers alike.

"That's enough Captain Covenna," the aged Imperial – Tullius – marched up to us with his head high. "This girl is not a prisoner of the Legion."

The woman looked confused. "But she was in the prisoner cart, General." She pointed an accusing finger at Ulfric and Ralof. "They were trying to hide her from us. No doubt as to plan their escape."

Ralof let out an outraged. "Are you man woman?!"

"Enough," Tullius ordered before narrowing his eyes at the Captain. "We had no other way of transporting her as she was unconscious when we found her. And while I'm appalled Ulfric would believe me heartless enough as to sentence a child," a snort came from sad man, "I understand his actions regarding the girl. She has nothing to do with the proceedings."

Covenna looked off put by the scolding. "Yes General, understood."

He waved her off. "Back to your post, soldier." She marched away towards the block and Tullius turned his attention to me. "It seems your injuries were not as bad as we feared. I apologise for any misgivings."

I blinked owlishly. "Um… okay?"

Tullius didn't seem perturbed. "Now may I ask your name and origins so we can begin to contact your family? I'm sure they anxious to have you returned home."

I frowned. "My parents are dead. I came to Skyrim with a friend so he could conduct business. I was to wait in Whiterun for his return."

Tullius looked me over. "You're from Cyrodiil?"

Deciding to be honest I said. "County of Kvatch though it has been a while since I actually lived there."

"Kvatch?" Tullius asked, surprised. "Not much left there. I will have a team of my soldiers escort you to Whiterun. I'm sure Jarl Balgruuf would allow my men into his Hold for that much at least. Your name?"

Damn he noticed. "Aiaenia… Rulra." I'm sure Aloynd would allow me to use his family name in this situation. It wouldn't be traced as most history regarding the Oblivion crisis was wiped from the history books according to Alvethaur. Something about the Thalmor claiming rights to the closing of the gates. I had nearly marched on the Imperial City for that alone. "What of my horse?"

Tullius actually looked stumped. "Your horse?"

I nodded slowly. "Yes… the big, snow-white stallion I was riding before I was knocked down? Had all my supplies tied to his saddle?" I paused before adding. "Quite vicious… and has a tendency to bite people other than me?"

"That beast is yours!" A random soldier cried out. I snickered a little and saw some of the prisoners look amused by the outburst. Tullius coughed into his hand before addressing me.

"After we arrived at your location he… ran off."

Chased him off more like. "I guess I'll have to make do with the coin on my person and my dagger…" I looked up at him expectantly and he nodded albeit warily. A soldier came up then and handed the leather sheath containing my steel dagger. It was nothing special to be honest, being one I bought one of my escapades to the Imperial City, but I wasn't about to let them just take my only weapon.

Tullius turned to the solider after he finished handing me my dagger. "Escort Miss Rulra to the Helgen Homestead Inn and have Vilod take care of her." The soldier nodded in understanding and moved to grab my arm but I ducked out of the way and passed the two of them. When the soldier moved to grab me again I moved back.

"I'd like to watch."

Tullius scowled disapprovingly. "An execution is no place for a child."

I stared firmly back and pointed to Lokir's corpse. "And that was? I'm not afraid of death, I seen my fair share." Plus dealt some of my own. When Tullius' look didn't change I added. "It's more out of respect."

That got him. When a child begged to see something some gruesome it was because they wished to be part of the adults or they wanted to see what the fuss was about. To watch an execution was worth so much more than a child's simple pleasure. It was a procession that demanded respect for the soon-to-be deceased despite their transgressions.

"Very well," with that he walked off towards the awaiting prisoners and I let out a sigh. I moved to follow him and stood just outside of the tower shadowing the square, just behind the executioner. I had the perfect view of prisoners. Ralof saw me looking and gave me a warm smile and a respectful bow of the head to which I return sadly. I could have grown to like him.

"Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak," Tullius began, facing the gagged Jarl. "Some here in Helgen call you a hero." There was an awkward shift amongst the watching crowd as the sympathisers fidgeted. "But a true hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his King and usurp his throne."

I straightened my back in shock at that. High King Torygg was dead? I remembered what Lokir had said when he realised Ulfric was amongst the captive. Rebellion he had called it. A rebellion meant a civil war which would explain the Thalmor's presence as well as high-ranked officers of the Legion. Alvethaur was going to flip when he found out. Skyrim had become as dangerous as Cyrodiil – for him at least.

Tullius carried on with his glorified speech. "You started this war! Plunged Skyrim in chaos. And now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace." Ulfric grunted beneath his gag, looking angrily at the General. Obviously Tullius was the leader of the Empire's side of the civil war.

An echo.

I looked up in surprise at the odd sound as it echoed off the very mountains surrounding Helgen. The origin must have been very far away for such a long echo to have sounded, but also very loud meaning big.

"What was that?" The soldier who had read the list asked as they had all heard it.

"It's nothing." Tullius dismissed the sound and turned to the Captain. "Carry on."

"Yes, General." She snapped to attention before turning to the Priestess of Arkay beside her. "Give them their last rites."

The priestess moved forward, arms spread wide in a welcoming gesture for the Divines. "As we commend you souls to Aetherius, blessing of the eight Divines be upon you-"

"Nine Divines," I whispered under my breath. Another reason for my almost storming the White-Gold Tower. Talos had created the Empire to begin with and while my family line no longer ruled they still raised our banner in their wars. Honestly both the Thalmor and the Empire should be glad Talos was an Aedra rather than Daedra. If the Divines intervened in mortal affairs more often than we would have had an Aetherius Crisis on our hands which I doubted could so easily be solved as the Oblivion Crisis. Thank Akatosh for small mercies.

"For the love of Talos shut up and let's get this over with." I looked up in surprise to see one of the prisoners stepping forth head held high. He marched over to the block and as the priestess grumbled under her breath and allowed him to face his death. The Captain shoved him onto his knees in front of the block after which she used her boot to force his head onto the block itself.

From my position I could see the man's face perfectly as he faced his executioner with a grim smile. "My ancestors are smiling at me Imperials. Can you say the same?"

No, they could not as my ancestor definitely wasn't smiling at them. The axe came down with a resounding thunk and the Nord's head rolled into the waiting basket, blood spurted from the stump neck like water from a river. The Captain shoved the body off the block and looked up into the watching crowd.

"You Imperial bastards!" One of the female prisoners yelled out in horror.

"Death to the Stormcloaks!" An onlooker called out, though his face showed no trace of happiness, merely grim satisfaction. I myself gave a silent prayer for the dead Nord my expression void and my body firm. Like I had told Tullius I had seen my fair share of death and this was far from the worst I had seen. I shuddered as the shadow of a cottage flashed in my mind and I had to bite down my lip. I couldn't think of that place now. I looked up to see Ralof watching me with a worried expression to which I just gave a brief nod and turned my attention back to the execution.

"You," the Captain pointed at Ralof, "To the block." My eyes immediately went back to Ralof and I saw he had yet to look away from me. His eyes betray his resignation, but his body was prepared. He was ready to great Shor's Hall in all its glory.

My body tensed up as that sound echoed through the air once more. Louder. Clearer. Closer. I felt my hand move to curl around my sheathed dagger and my legs tense to run. This sound… it stirred something deep within me and not in the good way.

"There it is again."

The Captain wasn't happy for the interruption. "I said next prisoner!" Ralof turned his eyes from the sky, moving up to the block and like before the Captain forced him to his knees and finally over the block. Ralof never removed his gaze from mine which to be honest was a little unnerving, but something else was moving me the wrong way. I shifted my gaze to the sky and back to Ralof and I saw his questioning stare bore into mine.

Something was very wrong. I unsheathed my dagger and I saw Ralof's eyes widen at the motion. It seemed though his time was to come to an end as the headsman lifted his axe, ready to bring it down.

A roar. That is what the sound was. And it wasn't one of a sabre cat or a bear. I heard the air being beaten down harshly in a stroke-like motion and the air crackle with power I hadn't felt in two-hundred years.

The power of an immortal being.

"What in Oblivion is that?!" Tullius cried out as a dark shadow ran over Helgen and fall onto the tower with an earth-shattering crash. I stumbled on the shaking ground and looked up at the tower behind me.

"DRAGON!"

* * *

_Next Time on Revak Dovah Kulaas..._

_Dragons... Dragons had returned to Skyrim after all these millenia. Alvethaur was going to flip when he found out. Skyrim was dangerous enough as it was without immortal reptiles flying the skies. What I am supposed to do now? I still need to head to Whiterun, but what then? By blood I am Dragonborn. Aren't they supposed to be the only ones who can actually kill a dragon? Talos guide me. Maybe leaving Cyrodiil wasn't the best idea after all._

* * *

**_Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. It turned out a little longer than I expected and I thought Alduin's arrival was a good place to break up the chapter. Please review as I wish to hear your opinions on the story. I'm on a roll so far, but don't expect an update so soon next time. _**


	3. Two Nords, Different Sides

**Sorry about the delay. Writer's block is the worst, honestly. I can't promise to update regularly, but I will try my best. Thank you and enjoy.**

**I do not own the Elder Scrolls franchise**

* * *

Chapter 3 - Two Nords, Different Sides

Alvethaur was definitely going to flip.

I looked up to the top of the tower where two massive wings shadowed in black scales clung to the sides. The body was massive – the size of an inn – even as it stood proudly on the shaking structure. Spikes protruded from multiple points on its body mainly along the spine and head, each looking as lethal as the last. Red eyes gleamed from above a massive maw which glistened with dagger-sized teeth.

"DRAGON!" That set the crowd off. Screams erupted around me and soldiers called out in battle readying bows and arrows to take down the massive creature. It's a shame no one told them dragons were highly intellectual beings that were the closest living beings we had to Aedra.

The maw opened and a powerful blast left its jaws. It thundered across the land and the sky turned a despairing red as fire began to form above. Meteorites expelling magical flames rained down onto the vulnerable Helgen and made quick work of the wooden homes. The dragon looked down at us and opened his mouth again.

The force that left its maw didn't dissipate into the sky, rather it rebounded off the air itself and suddenly I was thrown backwards onto the cobbled stone of the square, metres away from where I previously stood. I was dazed from the sudden attack and couldn't right my senses enough to know where I was. There was fire, screams of pain and horror, the smell of burning wood and corpses. I tried not to gag on that last smell. I felt my dagger being pulled from my hands and not a moment later rough hands grabbed me around the waist and hoisted me over a broad shoulder. I let out a cry and lashed out.

"Easy kid, it's me!" I paused as my vision finally cleared enough and I looked over my shoulder to see the back of Ralof's head as he dashed across the square into the neighbouring tower that stood next to the inn. All around us people were screaming and running around like frightened rabbits, trying to find shelter in the disaster. Just as Ralof reached the bottom step of the tower a meteorite exploded right behind us. The shockwave from the impact knocked the Nord clear off his feet and we both went flying through the doorway which shut immediately after, muffling the horrid sounds.

"Ow…" I complained as I picked myself off my back. I had hit my head on the unforgiving floor again. Three times in one day couldn't be good for my brain. With heavy breaths I looked around to see several Stormcloaks filling the lower tower, most on the floor bleeding out from injuries or burns. I looked over to Ralof who had landed next to me and was glad to see him groaning as he pulled himself to his feet.

"You alright soldier?" Ulfric had escaped into the tower as well, mostly unscathed by the looks of it. Ralof accepted his offering hand and pulled himself to his feet.

"By the Nine I never want to experience that again." He looked to me and looked relieved to see me up and alert. "Good dagger you have on you." He handed said weapon back to which I re-sheathed it without question.

"Thank you." There was no question that I would be a pile of charred flesh if he had left me to my fate.

He waved me off. "Don't mention it." He then turned to Ulfric who was glaring at the door as it rattled with the shockwaves. "Jarl Ulfric, was that what I thought it was? Could the legends be true?"

Ulfric looked back at him sternly. "Legends don't burn down villages." The tower shook and they all stumbled to hold their footing. "We need to move. Now!" He pushed past us towards the stairs and we followed him quickly even as the tower shook again with a harder force than before. We ran up the spiralling staircase, myself overtaking them both, and was just about to reach the upper landing where a Stormcloak soldier was waiting at a blockage when I felt a dark sensation roll over me. Low growls could be heard over the chaos from outside and it was close… almost as if…

"NO!" I threw myself back into Ralof who nearly knocked Ulfric over the edge, but it had served a purpose as the wall caved in and the fearsome spiked head of the dragon burst forth.

"**Yol Toor SHUL!**" Fire burst from its mouth in whirling torrents and filled the landing with the harsh flames. Any chance that the soldier had survived the crumbling rock died as the fire licked over the rubble.

"Dammit!" Ralof cursed as he righted himself. The dragon flew off the tower and once more wreaked havoc on the devastated town. I could only watch with wide eyes as the chaos spread to an unthinkable level. It had been a long time since I had seen destruction on such a massive scale. Two hundred and four years since that fateful night.

_Blood, screams and the cries of enemy and friends alike filled the air as the city was swarmed with armoured Daedra, each killing without a second's hesitation. There was no mercy shown; elder, adult and child alike died at the whip of a blade or the scorching of magic. I ran from the window of my bedroom down the spiralling steps of the tower and out into the main chamber of the chapel. Alvethaur was still out there as was Sigina and everyone else I cared about. Tears blinded my eyes as I desperately grasped at the old knocker of the entrance and struggled to pull the heavy door inward. It scraped roughly against the worn stone and before I knew what was happening hands wrapped around my waist and pulled me back. People rushed past me and reclosed the door, locking it tightly from any outside intrusion._

_I cried and screamed, thrashing about at the one who held me. I didn't care if my fists hit them nor if my legs bashed into their knees. I needed to get out there. I needed to find my friends!_

"_Aiaenia stop!" It was a command, given reluctantly and I couldn't help but struggle harder against the familiar arms that wrapped around me in a crushing hug._

"_They're out there!" I screamed desperately. "Alvethaur, Sigina, Risatu, Lydvar! My friends!" I turned and pleaded desperately with the grim looking man holding me back. "Papa! Please we have to help them."_

_Blue eyes stared back at me filled with bitter tears of acceptance. "I can do little but pray to Akatosh that they will survive this. I will not risk you or the others of this chapel." He turned me around and pulled me into a hard hug. "Forgive this man for such a selfish whim, but I can't bear to lose you too."_

"_Papa…" I broke down and hugged him back as hard as I could. I felt my legs leave the ground and I wrapped them around his waist tightly, clinging to his neck with all my might. The screams never died and the chaos forever reigning. All I could do was cling to my father in desperation and pray to the leader of the Divines that my friends be spared from Oblivion's wrath._

"There's no choice," I blinked as I returned from the past and stared at Ralof in confusion. He had moved from my side and was now staring out of the newly formed hole. Beyond was a clear view of Helgen and right below us was the slowly burning inn. "We'll have to jump."

As Ulfric nodded his agreement I gaped. "Are you insane?"

Ralof actually found the time to smile. "With all this madness around us it's hard not to be." Joking aside he frowned and held out a hand for me. "You first, we'll follow right behind you." I took the hand slowly and was pulled towards the edge. Looking down over the crumbled remains of the fortified wall I gulped and backed away slightly. That is a very long way down.

"I think I'll stay here."

Ralof scowled and released my hand. "And have that dragon knock down the entire tower? I'll carry you if I have to."

Definitely not. More likely to miss with the added weight. I sighed and before either Nord could try to convince me further I took a running leap and soon was falling rapidly through the smoked filled air towards the burning inn below. I heard Ralof exclaim as I disappeared through the hole but it was lost to the wind that rushed past my ears. My heart leapt in my chest in what felt like excitement and my breathing quickened with a bubble of laughter simmering in my throat.

The euphoric feeling ended as I was grounded. My heart slammed down into my stomach as my feet hit the burning floor of the inn hard. Automatically I locked my muscles and threw myself into a quick role to lessen the impact. Still hurt though and adding the intoxicated fumes of the smoke it wasn't comfortable. I slowly got to my feet and looked up towards the tower to see Ralof preparing to follow my lead only for a shadow to fall over the inn and Ralof to make a hasty retreat as fire tore through the air. Igniting the rafters of the inn completely making it impossible to follow. The entire building groaned as the fire licked at its support which had me rushing through the upper floor in a haste lest the entire thing collapsed on top of me.

I somehow made it to the first floor and was once again out in the open roads of Helgen. Before I could seek sanctuary the inn gave a loud groan and shuddered before finally giving up to the ever consuming flames. I moved away from the flying embers and wood as the inn collapsed on itself and quickly moved out onto the road, rushing past shouting soldiers and screaming civilians.

"Haming! You need to get over here now!" I turned to see the Legion soldier from before coaxing a boy from behind a ruined house. The boy was crouching down in the middle of a road next to an injured man pulling at him relentlessly in an effort to get him to stand up. I heard the roar of the dragon sound overhead and felt my stomach drop deeper into my gut.

"Get off the road boy!" An elderly man cried out from next to the soldier, both refusing to leave their safe location to forcibly move the ignorant child. I was already in motion, running desperately towards the shaking child who couldn't be more than two years my junior. The man he crouched by must have been his father as he was helplessly calling out "Papa!" to the nearly unconscious man.

I reached him just as the earth gave a trembling shake and dust rose in tidal waves. Refusing to look up and meet those eyes of gleaming blood I grasped onto Haming's left arm and yanked him to his feet. His mind must have been elsewhere as he followed my jerky movements without question and soon we were both running down the road towards the gesturing soldier.

"**Yol Toor SHUL!" **I screamed in fright and was more than relieved when the soldier reached out and grabbed the both of us by the front of our clothing. We were forced under cover behind the house as flames rocketed down the road at unimaginable speeds, incinerating all in its path. I felt the boy grasp onto my chest and burying himself into my cloak. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held him tightly, waiting for the flames to die down. Wings beated the air and the dragon took off once more.

"Damn it to Oblivion!" The soldier yelled in anger before turning his attention to us. "You two okay?"

Haming buried his face deeper into my chest and I could only give a single nod. The pair of us were breathing harshly and trembling in fear and exhaustion. The soldier nodded and drew his sword pulling himself out of his crouch as he did so.

"Gunnar! Take care of the boy. I'll take the girl and move somewhere more secure." The elderly man nodded and moved to take Haming away from me.

"Gods guide you Hadvar," Gunnar replied, finally giving a name to the Legion soldier. When his wrinked hand touched Haming's shoulder the boy cried out in protest and clung to me tighter. I choked on a breath as the action restricted my lungs, but I too tightened my hold around the desperate child. I knew nothing but family could remove the boy from me now.

_I breathed in the ash filled air with harsh gasps. Tearing through the ruins of my beloved city with the hounds of Oblivion at my heels. I should have listened to Papa when he said not to open the door. Not to leave the chapel. And yet I still disobeyed him. I wanted to find my friends. Make sure they were safe from the wave of Daedra that spawned from the blasted Gate. I rushed around a corner and skidded on something wet and slick sending me onto my side and skidding several feet before crashing to a halt into the side of a building. I cried out in pain, already trying to struggle to my feet. I looked down at my hands and my eyes widened as I saw the liquid I had skidded on coated them both in a dull red that gleamed in the burning of the city. They shook and the blood dripped onto the coated stone road in light trickles._

"_Oblivion take you!" I looked up from my horrified observations to see a fully armoured Dremora running at me with a greatsword drawn and ready to swing. I let out a scream of pure terror and tried to move back away from the approaching Daedra. Raising my hands in a futile gesture to protect myself I waited for the final, pain filled slash only for the sound of steel crashing against daedric metal to ring through the burning streets. I opened my eyes to see an Imperial man standing in front of me, dressed in worn armour and cloth with a battered steel sword held up against the blackened blade of the Dremora. With a grunt the man pushed the blade away and with a quick swipe slit the Dremora's exposed throat with a loud cry. The evil beast dropped to the ground with a choked gurgle and died. The man stood over his kill with grey eyes filled with contempt, his dark hair and body soaked in blood and filth from the streets. He turned his gaze to me and his eyes softened as they fell on my quivering form._

"_Hey there," he whispered gently, lowering his sword, but not sheathing it. "It's okay now." He lifted his hand towards me slowly, trying to keep calm and appear non-threatening._

"_Damn these Oblivion spawn!" A loud voice shouted out and the sound of steel clashing once more frightened me from my defenceless position. I leapt at the man with a shrill cry and latched onto the front of his armour, uncaring if the sharp ends of the metal dug into my skin. He jerked in surprised and his free hand rose to steady me as I collapsed in a sob against his stomach. The sound of a sword cutting into soft flesh ripped through the night and soon a blood soaked guard of Kvatch strolled up to us. His face was masked in a permanent sneer of disgust as he wiped his blade clean from Dremora blood. The man looked up at the Imperial who I clung to._

"_You've got a good arm on you. Let's hope it's enough to get us to the chapel." He paused as he saw my quivering form. "Who is…?"_

"_I found the girl just seconds before she was to be cut down by an armoured Dremora." I felt him rest a hand on my head in a reassuring gesture. "She must have been running from them."_

_The guard took a step closer to us and he gasped as he looked at me closer. "I know her. Daughter of one of the priests at the chapel. What in the name of the Divines is she doing on the streets?"_

_The Imperial's breath hitched. "You don't think the chapel's been overrun?"_

_The guard growled. "We better pray it hasn't. It's the last haven this city has left." The guard knelt down on his knee in front of me. "Girl, you know me don't you? I come to the chapel every Sundas to give pray to Akatosh."_

_I nodded still sobbing into the stranger's attire. The guard took this as a sign and moved closer, too close._

"_Can you tell us what happened? Why you're out on the streets instead of in the chapel? Surely your father didn't let you run the streets with Daedra roaming." He paused, thinking hard. "What was his name… oh! Martin!"_

_I startle at the exclamation of my father's name and I felt the Imperial's body twitched in what I would later recognise as shocked realisation. The guard reached for me._

"_Let's find your papa shall we?" When his fingers brushed against me I cried out as if in pain and clung to the stranger with all my might, violently protesting against the familiar guard. The guard wasn't too happy about my reaction and jerked back. "What in the name of-"_

_I felt arms circle around me and I once more found myself lifted like a babe. The Imperial had sheathed his sword so he could pick me up and I let him without any further protest. Burying my face in his neck I sobbed out my fears and sorrows to which he replied with a cooing shush and soothing rubs to my head as he cupped it gently._

_The guard was stumped. "Why would she cling to a complete stranger?"_

_The Imperial shook his head. "She's in shock. She watched me cut a Dremora down not a moment ago. You said her father was a priest at the chapel? Priest Martin?" When the guard nodded the Imperial's expression turned grim. "Let's go. I don't think the chapel's been taken yet, otherwise we would have seen more citizens running around."_

"_Unless they're all dead." The guard spat out harshly to which I let out a muffled whimper._

"_They're fine," he retorted back with a bite of anger. "They have to be." I let out a choking sob and the man looked back at me with kind eyes. "What's your name sweetheart?"_

"_A-Ai-Aiaenia…"_

_He smiled brightly, looking a little odd as his face was covered in blood and dirt. "Aiaenia, huh? You can call me Aloynd. Now, let's get you back to your father shall we?"_

And like the boy I had refused to release my saviour until I was reunited with my father which sadly wouldn't happen for Haming. Hadvar saw this too and cursed under his breath.

"Alright I'll take them both," Gunnar looked reluctant, but he moved away from the distressed child and looked back at Hadvar. "You see if you can find anymore civilians. They can't be the only ones." When Gunnar took off Hadvar gestured to me and Haming. "Let's move!"

I managed to push Haming away despite his desperate protests and grabbed his hand before breaking out into a run. The distraught boy caught on and re-enforced his grip in mine and together we hurried after Hadvar as he ran down the blackened street towards the northern entrance of Helgen. A destroyed house blocked most of the road and so Hadvar detoured into a narrow alleyway behind it, jumping down the ledge with little difficultly.

Just as Haming and I followed him Hadvar cried out and pulled the two of us towards him.

"Stay close to the wall!" A shadow fell over us and sharp talons connected to leathery black wings crashed into the wall on either side of us. Haming screamed in terror and I too let out a shriek, clinging the crying boy closer to me once more. The dragon didn't seem to have noticed us as fire spurted from its mouth, killing a soldier not ten feet away before flying off with a heavy beat of its powerful wings.

"By the Eight," Hadvar muttered as he saw his fellow soldier now little more than a charred corpse. He grabbed my shoulder roughly and dragged me into the burning building which was the only way to reach the other side. Haming was still clinging onto my hand and was pulled alongside me, shaking with terror. The other side wasn't faring any better than the square but at least there were living people fighting the swooping dragon as it dove and killed its way over Helgen. Hadvar didn't allow us to linger and pushed us to run down the wall and through an archway that lead to a massive keep proudly standing amidst the destruction of its city.

Hearing the dragon roar overhead I pumped my legs to move faster, dragging Haming behind me as we made a mad dash towards the fortified building. It was our only hope of avoiding the dragon's wrath as it lay destruction to the fighting soldiers and civilians. Tunnel-vision caused by my focus and my exhaustion led me to running into someone who had come in from the side. I grunted as I was knocked and then once more when my abrupt halt caused Haming to run into my back. A warm hand grasp my arm before I could fall onto my side and steadied me gently. I blinked in confusion and looked up at who I collided with.

"Ralof!" I cried out, happy to see the Stormcloak still alive and barely a scratch on him.

He too grinned back at me. "Thank the Divines you're alright." He looked behind me and smiled. "You too Haming. You're both doing great."

Despite his terrified state Haming managed to give a small smile and I squeezed his hand gently in reassurance which he returned with equal strength. The sound of a sword slicing through the air between us had us jumping back in shock. Hadvar scowled darkly at Ralof and moved between us.

"Ralof you damn traitor," he hissed in blind fury, brandishing his sword. "Get out of our way!"

The blond Nord snarled back. "We're escaping Hadvar and there's nothing you can do about it!" I guess they knew each other and hated the other's guts by the sounds of it.

"Fine!" Hadvar growled nastily. "I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!" Said dragon gave a roar of triumph and more fell to its destruction. Desperate tears built in my eyes and without warning I pushed between the two men with Haming shadowing my every footstep.

"Stop it!" I cried. "That dragon is going to kill us all unless we get out of here!"

Ralof nodded. "Right, let's go!" He moved to grab my hand when Hadvar swiped his sword down nearly chopping his arm off.

"They're coming with me, traitor!" I had just about enough of their petty arguing. Opening my mouth to tell them both to grow up a dark shadow passed over us followed by a familiarly terrifying roar.

"RUN!" I screamed, grabbing Ralof's wrist while Haming grabbed Hadvar's and together we dragged the men into the keep without any further protests from either. The door slammed shut behind us just as the earth shook with an almighty crash as the dragon landed just beyond the doorway. I immediately released Ralof and feel to my knees. Choking on my own gasping breath and tears I looked around the small entrance chamber of the keep. Dust had fallen from its hidden homes and covered the stone floor in uneven layers and small chips of stone littered the ground causing more disarray. There were two doors on either side both barred shut with iron stakes and a small table was pushed up against the far wall. Beneath the table lay a growing puddle of blood with the originator lying dead within – a dark haired Stormcloak baring little more than his armour and a dull iron axe. Ralof moved over towards the dead Nord to wish his passage into Sovngarde and Hadvar, after giving both Stormcloaks a filthy glance, went to check on the two exits that were open to us.

A shaking hand clasped onto my shoulder and I looked over to see a white-faced Haming crying silently behind me. He looked confused, fearful and depressed. I could understand as I too had witness the demises of those closest to me all the while chaos reigned around. I gave him a shaky smile and turned on my knees so I was facing him. His hand fell from my shoulder limply to rest at his side. He two rested back on his ankles as we regarded each other.

Wiping away tears I chuckled weakly. "We never had the chance to introduce ourselves. My name is Aiaenia Rulra."

Haming blinked a few times before his confusion cleared slightly and he nodded. "H-Haming… my name is Haming Whetted-Blade."

I smiled. "Nice to meet you." My sudden cheerfulness caught him off guard, but after a few moments he too smiled back, albeit weakly, and reached out to shake my hand.

"Damn it!" Hadvar exclaimed suddenly causing the pair of us to jump in alarm and looked over towards him. He was glaring at the blocked doorway to our left which was obviously barred shut. "I can see a switch on the other side, but I can't reach it." He cursed. "By Oblivion, Captin Covenna."

"Quite whining. A child could have told us that," Ralof snorted sarcastically, standing up from his fallen comrade's side. "We'll have to find another way out."

Hadvar whirled around to face Ralof. "The only other 'way out' is back into the town with that damned dragon. We'll have to wait for someone to come by on the other side."

Ralof scowled. "Even if someone made it into the keep one of us will end up dead by a blade. Don't mistake my tolerance of your presence for forgiveness. I'm only doing it for them." He pointed his finger at myself and Haming as we watched the confrontation. Hadvar opened his mouth to argue back – most likely the same point Ralof had spoken – but I spoke first.

"Will you two put aside your differences so we can get out of here?" I stood up slowly, my body still weak as the adrenaline had long since left my system. "I know you're on opposite sides of the civil war and all – which I really couldn't care less about – but for now we'll need to rely on each other to survive. Can't you two at least hold on for that long?"

Hadvar sighed, rubbing a hand though his hair. "I can refrain from doing so, at least until we're out of here." He shot a quick glare at Ralof. "But after that its fair game."

Ralof snorted. "Right back at ya. But I too will stay my blade."

I nodded in satisfaction before walking over towards the door Hadvar had been looking at before. I peered between the narrow bars and saw the long hallway stretch down and just on the left beyond arms reach was a heavy switch with a familiar, dead legionnaire crumpled beneath it. By the blood smears on the wall she had died just as she went for the switch.

I pointed at her through the bars. "Won't she have a key for the door behind us? I think this way leads towards the other door we saw outside. So the other door behind us should lead into the keep, right?"

Hadvar nodded. "Captain Covenna was charged with holding down the keep. So it is possible she had the keys on her." Ralof and Haming had come up behind us. "I myself arrived here today and haven't explored the keep personally so I wouldn't know the layout."

"Fat lot it does for us now." Ralof sighed, the close proximity of the two soldiers caused them both to tense but they honoured their words and didn't attack. "It's a dead end either way."

I bit my bottom lip and lifted my arm so it was parallel to the floor with my hand at a ninety degree angle. "Maybe not…"

Hadvar looked at me with a weird expression. "What are you…!?" He broke off in a surprised sound as the air in front of my right hand began to glow a deep, foreboding purple. The purple cloud began to swirl in on itself rapidly creating black vortex and as I closed my hand it disappeared momentarily until I thrusted my hand back open and a loud ringing sound echoed through the narrow hall. A doorway, the same colour as the swirling vortex ball, opened in the air and a bluish, translucent figure emerged from within.

Head thrown back in a soundless howl the spirit wolf stood proudly before us beyond the bars. I let out a sigh of relief and turned my hand so my palm was facing upwards. The wolf lowered its head and quickly moved towards my welcoming hand. Within moments I was stroking through soft, ice-cold fur that glowed ethereal blue.

Ralof and Hadvar had jumped backwards at the wolf's approach and now stood a few metres behind me. Haming, however, was excited by my display of magic and was now reaching through the bars himself to stroke the tamed canine who accepted the contact instantly.

"So cool!" He exclaimed, shivering lightly from the iciness of the conjured wolf. "How did you do that?"

Scratching thoroughly behind the left ear I smiled. "It's part of the conjuration field of magic. He's my familiar. I learnt to conjure him as my mentor polished off his skills in magic at the Arcane University." I was glad I could still conjure as Alvethaur had told me my magicka reserves had taken a nose dive due to my 'long nap'. I would have to build it back up if I wanted to use it efficiently without throwing myself into another coma.

"You're a mage then?" Ralof asked, a little icily to which I turned my head to narrow my eyes at him.

"No. I can just use basic magic to get myself out of a situation if it so calls for it. A novice in magic can summon their familiar. " At his sheepish look I rolled my eyes. "Typical Nord. Nice to know you're all the same anywhere."

Hadvar looked insulted. "What do you mean?"

I snorted. "I mean you distrust anything that can't be held and isn't made of steel." They both opened their mouths to argue, but I had already turned away. My wolf was watching me with a voided gaze ready for a command to leave my lips. I nodded once and pointed towards the dead Covenna. "Fetch."

I could almost see Ralof and Hadvar gaping at me from behind, but I didn't remove my gaze from the wolf as it growled lowly and moved into a leaping pounce onto the corpse. Icy, sharp teeth bit into shaped steel and began the short process of dragging the body towards my outstretched hand. As soon as the body was in reaching distance the wolf dropped it and sat back on its haunches with a satisfied bark.

I grinned, already reaching into the corpse's pockets to search for the key. "Good boy," I hummed happily and gave a short burst of triumph when my fingers enclosed around thinly shaped, cold metal. Pulling the master key from the leather pockets I tossed it back to Hadvar who, after a quick exclaim of shock, caught it in both hands.

Ignoring the incredulous stares I gave the wolf a firm stroke around the neck in appreciation before let out a quick spark of magic dispelling it instantly. When I finally stood up and turned around they were still standing there like sleeping undead.

"Are we going now?" I asked, almost childishly. When the two shook themselves out of their stupor and scrambled for the opposite locked door I shared a private, amused smirk with Haming and followed their lead. After unlocking the door and passing into a rounded hallway we followed the path until we came to a much large connection that was most likely the main hallway of the keep.

Hadvar pointed down the wide stretch. "There should be an exit on the other side, close to one of the gates."

I frowned. "Isn't that a risk?"

"You mean being close to one of the town entrances or having obvious points of entry?"

When said like that it seemed even more ludicrous. "Both."

"Look out!" Ralof yelled as the ceiling above us caved inward. We all stumbled back out of the way of the crumbling rock. The dragon's roar reverberated off the downed walls, angered or joyous it was hard to tell. Dust clouded the air rendering hacking coughs to claw at our lungs. The worst of the debris had thankfully missed us, but it was a close call.

"Oblivion take it!" Ralof cursed as he kicked at the now blocked passage. "That damned dragon doesn't give up."

"We'll have to find another way around." Hadvar was already opening the door to our left. I grabbed Haming's hand to pull him alongside me. Voices could be heard through the doorway and Ralof and Hadvar easily moved as one to the source. Three imperial soldiers watched as Hadvar made his way towards them. Unfortunately they caught sight of Ralof and attacked not only the Stormcloak, but Hadvar as well. The legion soldier cursed his comrades for their blind idiocy and gestured us to follow him down after grabbing a few essentials from the stores.

My blood froze at the sight of the room below: a torture chamber. I had Haming press his face into my cloak when I first caught sight of the gruesomely deformed body hung up in a cage barely big enough for a child to sit in. Skin had been ripped from the body in places. Nails torn and sliced, bones broken and organs ruptured. I couldn't allow Haming to witness the atrocity. I could barely stand it myself.

_Bile rising in my throat as screams erupted around me. I could barely hear myself echo the agonised yells. I emptied my gut onto the cracked wooden floor, crying uncontrollably as skin was ripped away._

"_S-St-Stop!" I screamed with a voice so hoarse it was ghostly. "P-Please!"_

"_You're upsetting the girl, Brother." The hands holding my arms behind my back tightened cruelly. The dagger at my throat digging in enough to allow a pinprick of blood to drip over ebony black. "Tell us what we want to hear."_

_He remained silent. His eyes met mine and they softened from their glare._

"_I'm sorry, Chrysa."_

_The knife entered his gut and the screaming began anew._

"Aiaenia!" I shook myself as the vision swam in my eyes. Hadvar was knelt before me and it was several moments before I realised I was crying.

"I'm fine," I told him dully. "Can we just leave? Please?" He nodded and gestured for me to go ahead. Haming was still burying his face in my cloak and so I had to draw him closer for guidance. Hadvar led us into a cave that ran into the side of the torture chamber; an emergency exit. A cave in caused the bridge behind us to collapse and so we had no choice, but to move forward and hope for the best. We came across a few wandering legionnaires and Stormcloaks, but as soon as they caught sight of either Hadvar or Ralof they attacked and so the two were forced to defend each other while Haming and I remained in the shadows of the walls. I could have joined the fray, but truthfully I was too shaken up from the torture chamber and Haming was too vulnerable to leave alone in battle. It was better to keep him as close as possible.

"Get down!" Ralof dragged the two of us into a low crouch as we made to move around a boulder obscuring our path. Hadvar too seemed to see what had alarmed Ralof and drew a bow he had obtained from one of the dead soldiers.

"Should we sneak past it?" He asked the blond Nord who bit his lip.

"If we're quiet enough."

"What are you two on about," I asked in a whisper. Ralof gestured me to come forward, slowly. Peering around the boulder I immediately locked eyes with what had caused the sudden need for stealth. A massive cave bear lay amongst a pile of bones and carcasses, sleeping soundly. It wasn't overly large by most bears in comparison, but that didn't make it any less intimidating. I reached out to grab the back of Hadvar's tunic armour as he made to sneak forward.

"The wind is drafting into the cave. As soon as we reach the entrance the bear will smell us." I pried the bow from Hadvar's fingers much to his reluctance and nicked a single iron arrow from his quiver. "Haming," I had the boy's full attention. "Grab that rock there and toss it as hard as you can at the bear."

"Are you mad?" Ralof half-whispered, half-yelled. I shrugged and gestured to Haming again who quickly picked up a nearby stone and lobbed it with all his strength at the bear. It didn't make it of course. Haming wasn't a full grown warrior like Hadvar or Ralof, but the stone accomplished its mission.

The bear was instantly roused from the sound of stone clattering against stone. An irritated grunt pulled from its throat as it struggled its overweight body to stumpy legs. Eyes drew to the stone and then to me as I shifted out from behind the boulder, arrow already notched. It opened its mouth to roar but before I could shot Ralof was running at the bear with his axe held high.

"Ralof!" I yelled as he blocked my arrow's intended path. If I had reacted a second too late Ralof would be the one with an arrow to the back. The Nord ignored my shout as he ran at the angered bear with a warrior's call. Hadvar was quick to aid the other Nord in battle which left me with nought but a dagger and a single arrow to shot with.

"Stay there," I said to Haming who only nodded.

Ralof was going toe to toe with the hulking mass of fur. The bear was slow in its attacks but one wrong move and Ralof would either be crushed or cleaved into shreds. Hadvar was providing backup, but was reluctant to get within the bear's claw range. Ralof caught the bear in the hide leg, forcing it to shriek in agony and thrash wildly. The unexpected move caught Ralof off guard. Claws raked down his outer thigh and he went down like a sack of potatoes. A pained grunt leaving his lips as he fell to his knee. The bear raised its massive paw for the final attack.

It froze. The iron arrow protruding from its left eye socket in what could only be a shocked expression. It died instantly and collapsed to the ground with a dull thud. I quickly made my way over to the corpse and pulled the arrow free. Blood leaking from the orifice in a steady trickle. I wiped the blood clean from the unbroken arrow and handed it back to Hadvar who instead handed me the entire quiver with a neutral expression.

"You seem more capable at handling a bow than I." With that he bent down to aid Ralof to his feet, tightening his hold when the Nord's injured leg nearly collapsed beneath him.

"Damn it," he grunted as Hadvar tightened his hold. "Brought down by a bear."

"The symbol of the Stormcloaks, lest I'm mistaken." That earnt Hadvar a hard glare, but the legionnaire ignored it in favour of adjusting his grip. "You always were too brash."

"And you too wary," he sighed, "but I owe you. You especially Aiaenia. Never seen a girl your age so talented with a bow."

I gave a weak chuckle, the adrenalin rush tapering down. "I learnt from the best."

"Hmm, remind me not to get on your bad side," he joked with a slight grimace when he tried to hobble alongside Hadvar. "I won't be much use now."

"I can see the exit," Haming spoke softly, pointing towards where a bright light could be seen chasing away the shadows.

"Aye, that'd be it," Hadvar nodded his head at me. "I trust you can watch our backs?" I nodded and together we set off; Hadvar adding Ralof up front with Haming and I bringing up the rear with my newly acquired bow slung over my shoulders. It was a little big for my body, but it was a better weapon than a single dagger.

The tunnel exited into a rocky tundra a few miles outside the borders of Helgen. Bordering the Falkreath and Whiterun holds alongside the road that follows the White River. Hadvar easily pulled Ralof along as we made our way down to the road only for a shadow to pass overhead.

"Get down!" Hadvar ordered as he ducked behind a large expanse of loose boulders. Ralof winced at the sudden movement which brought him to his knees. Haming and I stayed close together as we watched the black dragon fly towards the massive mountain and disappear into the distance. "That was close. Still with me Stormcloak?"

"Still here, Legionnaire." Ralof was losing a lot of colour around his face, his blood coating his left leg in dark streaks. Hadvar had since tied a tourniquet above the gash, but he needed treatment and fast.

"Will he be alright?" Haming asked quietly, staring at Ralof's bloodied leg with a fearful expression. I pulled him into a one-armed hug which he accepted gratefully.

"No doubt," Hadvar pointed towards where the road led down the slope. "Riverwood isn't far from here. A few hours walk at most. I have an uncle living there and Ralof his sister. I'm sure they will shelter us."

When we set off I couldn't help but state. "So you do know each other."

He nodded at me. "Since we were babes. We were best friends back then."

"Why not now?" Haming asked.

Ralof snorted. "A Stormcloak and an Imperial soldier?" Haming only looked confused by the statement. "We believe in different sides of the war."

"It doesn't matter now." I pointed out as we pushed down the slope at an even pace. The sun was setting low in the sky indicating late afternoon which gave us little time to reach Riverwood before nightfall. Ralof's condition slowed us down by a steady margin and it was becoming apparent that his injuries needed healing and soon. Hadvar, despite their differences, kept casting worried looks his former friend's way.

"Maybe we should rest?" I suggested when Ralof's pale features became alarmingly pallid. He was losing a lot of blood.

Hadvar looked torn. "If we don't keep moving night will be upon us. I have no torches to light our way and we have no means of setting camp."

"But Ralof…"

"I'm fine," Ralof huffed, his breathing laboured. "Just get me to the damn town already."

Hadvar snorted in spite of himself. "Still bull-headed," he paused for a moment when Ralof lost his balance slightly. "A horse wouldn't be missed."

I looked up in realisation. '_A horse!' _I brought my fingers to my mouth and let out a high pitched whistle that echoed off the mountains. Hadvar jumped at the sudden sound and Haming jolted away from me. When the former started to demand answers for my sudden actions I held up my finger to silence him. His mouth shut with an audible click and I closed my eyes to listen to the sounds around me. Sure enough, hooves digging into plantation clipped at my ears and I opened my eyes to beam as a massive white stallion paraded out of the surrounding forest.

"Snow-Gale!" I cheered as the horse butted me in the chest, head nuzzling into me. "Am I glad to see you… and you." I added to the travel pack still tied to his saddle with provisions and a map.

"He's yours?" Hadvar asked with a hopeful gleam in his eye as he pulled Ralof closer. I hummed in agreement as I fed Snow-Gale a quick treat from the sack.

"I sent him off before I fell unconscious. He wouldn't have strayed far and waited for me to call him."

"Smart," Hadvar approached and Snow-Gale let out a snort of warning which had the Nord backing up a little.

"Isn't this the same horse that bit that soldier?" Ralof asked with a wary grin as he eyed the proud equine.

"And you're going to ride him. No arguing!" I added when Ralof looked to protest. "He won't hurt you if I tell him not to." Snow-Gale nickered and I shrugged. "Most of the time anyway. Now, get on!"

The two Nords shared a look between them before sighing.

"Alright."

* * *

_Next time on Revak Dovah Kulaas..._

_Riverwood is a nice enough place. Ralof and Hadvar still butt heads, but their families seem friendly enough. The town is shadowed by an ancient ruin called Bleak Falls Barrow. The place sends ice down my spine. Why am I going towards it? Aren't I supposed to be heading for Whiterun?_

* * *

**Thank you for reading. Please review!**


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